CapturedbytheSS Read Free Page A

nervous,” he declares after several seconds. He
doesn’t sound surprised.
    Steadying my nerves, I force myself to answer. “I’m being
questioned by an SS officer. That’s not exactly a common event. Why wouldn’t I
be nervous?” Much to my relief, everything comes out sounding right. I say the
words perfectly, and I color the pronunciation with a subtle Irish accent.
    “Your ID states you are a native citizen, but you sound
Irish. Surely you know that only native Germans are allowed in Berlin.” He
looks and sounds bored, like a member of the US Secret Service busting a
teenager for loitering. Catching a nonnative in Berlin is hardly a case severe
enough to bring down the SS.
    I’m relieved he bought my accent. Maybe I really can get
myself out of this.
    Recognizing the opportunity, I feign defeat. I also make
myself look nervous, which doesn’t require too much effort. “I only wanted to
see Madama Butterfly at the Hoheit opera house.” Again, my German is
slightly tinged with an Irish accent. “I meant no disrespect, sir, and I’ll
promptly pay the fine.” Though…I have no idea how I’m going to pay a
fine, but that’s not important right now.
    I’m not certain, but he seems to furrow his eyebrows a bit.
    “Your fake ID is good. It’s one of the best I’ve ever seen.
It seems like a lot of trouble just to see an opera.” His fingers never once
leave my wrist.
    “Perhaps, but the Hoheit opera house is legendary,” I reply,
which is actually the truth. It’s common knowledge that only the best of the
best performers appear onstage at the Hoheit. “I know it was foolish to sneak
into Berlin, but I wanted an experience I could remember forever.”
    “Where did you get that ID?”
    “I made it.” Fortunately, most citizens in the empire do
have easy access to computers, scanners, printers and even sophisticated
laminators. Lucky for me, the empire is actually currently struggling with fake
IDs.
    From what I’ve read, quite a few nonnatives like to sneak
into Berlin to catch a performance at the Hoheit. There’s also a museum and an
art gallery in Berlin that’s home to some very rare and exquisite pieces.
Personally, I think most nonnatives just like the thrill of sneaking in. It’s a
citation if caught, yes, but it’s only a fine, albeit a steep one.
    There’s talk of switching to fingerprint technology, but it
hasn’t been implemented yet. Many doubt it ever will be. The logistics of such
a project are just too great, especially for such a minor offense. I think the
empire relies more on rewards to bring them the spies.
    He’s silent for a long moment.
    A shadow of confusion crosses his face. But in an instant,
it’s gone. His body language abruptly changes. Only seconds ago, he looked
tired, bored and annoyed. But now…well, he’s more alert and eager. His eyes
narrow slightly at me.
    I don’t like his new demeanor.
    His fingers dig into my flesh, and I will my heart to not
race. I desperately try to picture a serene and peaceful beach, hoping the
image will keep my pulse in check.
    “It’s very strange,” he declares. “When I said earlier that
you sounded Irish, your pulse slowed slightly, as if you were relieved. It
should have quickened, since it’s illegal for nonnative Germans to be in Berlin.”
    Again, my training kicks in, saving me from saying anything
foolish…such as blurting out that I’m an American spy, for example. “I was only
relieved that I now understand why I’m being questioned, that’s all.”
    “You think an SS officer would be at a checkpoint at two in
the morning to track down an Irish woman who only wanted to see Madama
Butterfly ?”
    Unfortunately, I can’t think of a response to that question.
    “Your German is quite good. I’m impressed. And you fake an
Irish accent very well. But there’s something else about your German. I can
tell it’s not your first language.”
    Despite my best efforts to stay calm, my heart starts
racing. His